


Scarecrow’s Messy Experimentations

by StripestheBoar



Series: Teacups and Crow Feathers [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Kink, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dubious Consent, Genderfluid Scarecrow, Hattercrow - Freeform, Jonathan’s just chillin’ in the back, M/M, Mind Break, Pain, Pet Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Predator/Prey, Pure Smut, Sadism, Scarecrow goes by “they”, Scarecrow is an alter, They talked about it beforehand, light pet play though, still concent, while Scarecrow fucks Jerv up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripestheBoar/pseuds/StripestheBoar
Summary: Jervis and Scarecrow play a classic game of cat and mouse. If Tetch isn’t caught before dawn, he’s in the clear. If Scarecrow catches him, the rest of the night is up to them.If you looked at the tags, you can guess who won.Pure smut.A stand alone fic, but read tags for info beforehand.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch, Scarecrow/Jervis Tetch, Scarecrow/Mad Hatter
Series: Teacups and Crow Feathers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1272674
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Scarecrow’s Messy Experimentations

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Finally made this old story, and glad I did. Had a blast writing it! Self indulged everywhere. 
> 
> Okay, so for those who haven’t read my Teacups and Crow Feathers list, you needn’t have to read the entire thing to understand this. Just some key things.
> 
> \- Scarecrow is an alter (name for a different part of someone with DID)
> 
> \- They go by “they”
> 
> \- The two are in a hideout within a forest
> 
> Anyways, this will have pretty much no Jonathan. Just Scarecrow and Jerv. Scarecrow’s appearances are scant in my works, so be prepared for a full 5000+ words of self-indulgent spookiness. From here’ll I’ll get back to my main works now that the porn is out of the way.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ “Jeeeerviiiiis~” _

Let it be known that Jervis did not dislike being afraid; he downright despised the idea. To be so weak and vulnerable under the gaze of another, so out of control; he couldn’t stand the idea. The Hatter was always the one pulling the strings of his puppets, not the other way around. And yet, here he was, crouched behind a laboratory counter whilst the Scarecrow stalked merely feet away, searching high and low for their prey.

“ _ I know you’re still here…”  _ the beast called out, listening closely for even the slightest bit of noise. Their voice was higher pitched than what Tetch was used to hearing from the system’s mouth. Dispassionate, nonplussed analyses were replaced with the giggles and devious intimidations of a predator. Jervis, for his own safety, remained mum, a hand over his mouth as a precaution and taking in each slow step of the monster. His eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, much unlike Jonathan, who was the human equivalent of an owl, what with his night vision and his “hroo”s and “hraa”s. But that wasn’t Jonathan. No, much like the Mock Turtle in a turtle’s shell, such a thing should not be believed. 

The power had been shut off, his cards and pocket watch too far from his reach to even spark hope. Besides, using such tools was against the rules, and that not-Jonathan would be frighteningly furious should Jervis break the rules. Tetch loved his dear friend, but to be one of his test subjects wouldn’t bode well for his mental health. He’d tried oh so hard to remain lucid during these trying times, and who knew when he would wake up back in reality again? There was also the underlying fear of what would follow his capture. He’d never been in the lone company of a sick Scarecrow, ready with devious ideas on their own brand of intimacy. 

When it sounded as though the beast’s voice was fading, Jervis peeked around the corner to find Scarecrow slowly passing by each lab counter, back turned to their prey. Each step was noticeably audible, and there was no doubt it was intentional. Master of Fear they were; every little noise only caused the poor Hatter’s heart to thud faster, wishing he had a teacup to chew on.

Speaking of teacups. 

Jervis had gathered a most wonderful idea of how to evade being caught for good. The tea set was still on the far left side of the lab from his and Jonathan’s tea party earlier, only two tables from the Hatter’s hiding spot. The breaking of porcelain shattering the tension would be enough of a distraction to get to the door without immediate reaction. Shifting his way there based on the movements of the monster’s footsteps, he inched ever so closer to the subject of his plan. If he could simply get a hold of a singular cup without being seen, he may be free for the rest of the night.

He needn’t hide forever. As soon as dawn broke, the game was over. That was the deal, and Jonathan was not one to turn back on his deals. Scarecrow hated the light, thankfully, needing a façade to shield themself from lurking Tweedle gazes. The cat wanted to play with the mouse and prosecute him, acting as both jury and judge so the mouse wouldn’t complain of wasting his breath; if he would even have breath to waste after tonight.

No. No, Scarecrow would never kill him, Jervis had to remind himself as he got ever so closer. Maybe beforehand when the two weren’t as friendly, yes, but Scarecrow wouldn’t throw him down the stairs for their own glee. Okay, well, maybe. Ending a life was so easy, as Jervis knew from experience. So  _ terrifyingly  _ easy. Scarecrow had easily demonstrated that when they nearly strangled Jervis into unconsciousness. If that Monstrous Crow got too excited, what would keep them from going to far with their demented glee. Jervis couldn’t say for sure, and that lack of knowledge implanted a fear deep into his heart that kept him hidden from the beast. It would have been  _ so easy  _ to simply flood the room with fear toxin, even for the both of them, but no, Crow wanted to draw this out. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to find out what a monster with that sort of maliciousness had up their sleeve.

Now behind the counter that held the tea set he was looking for, he listened for his chance. He waited for the steps to fade further, before swiftly reaching up and snatching a teacup from the tray. Ducked just near the corner, he took in a steady and silent breath, ready to make his dash to the exit. Oh how he hated to be rid of such a perfectly fine porcelain teacup, but to be honest, he found his own safety to be just a tad more important than drinkware. With only a moment of hesitation, he peeked around the corner and threw the cup across the room and away from the only door he would be able to reach in time. As the cup hit the wall with an explosion of shards, he reeled back, waiting for the moment he would hear his pursuer move towards the noise to investigate.

He sat tentatively on his haunches, but never heard those quick footsteps that would signal an opening for his escape.

In fact, there was no sound at all. Brow furrowed and heart pounding, he poked his head out just a tad more to scope the room, only to find no tall Monstrous Crow roaming about. He blinked, wanting to voice his confusion out of impulse but knew better to keep his mouth shut. 

“Jervis.”

Tetch yelped in terror at the sharp, devious giggle that sliced through the silence behind him. Two snake-like arms wrapped around his middle, dragging him from his hiding spot and up to the thin frame of his pursuer. “Such a valiant effort,” Scarecrow whispered into Tetch’s ear, keeping a tight hold on their struggling victim, “though not exactly original.” 

The Mad Hatter let out several babbles of terror, trying to force the monster away and beat on his arms and chest, but he never was a fighter; he could compare it to punching a sturdy tree in hopes of uprooting it. “Jonathan— please—!”

“Jonathan’s here,” Scarecrow giggled, a hand coming to Hatter’s neck and forcing his head back to look up at the predator. Those unnaturally wide eyes brought a stillness to his heart. The Cheshire Cat grin tainted the visage of a man he loved to dearly. Those fingers were so threateningly tight against his throat, making it difficult to even breathe. “But he’s not calling the shots tonight, and you know he’s simply watching you squirm and scream with glee.” They paused momentarily to lick hungry lips. “Speaking of which, care to give me another one of those delightful little noises, my little experiment?”

Jervis’ breathing was ragged, one hand trying in vain to push the monster back as they trailed their lips along his throat. His other hand flailed along the counter, blindly searching for any form of vorpal blade to slay this beast. A wave of burning pain shot through his body when Scarecrow sunk their teeth into Jervis’ neck, hard enough to break the skin. A pained cry echoed through the room, tears prickling the victim’s eyes at the savagery, his hand slamming around on the counter until his fingers grazed the handle of a teapot. Unlike with the teacup, Tetch didn’t hesitate to swing the pot back and slam it onto the beast’s head.

The teapot shattered into shards both big and small, raining down from thatch-like red hair and causing Tetch’s captor to loosen their grip enough to allow him to yank himself from their arms and sprint to the door. The dark professor was still recovering from the blow when Hatter threw open the exit and made haste to the mass of trees in the distance. Cold wind nipped at his face, its unpleasantness striking him hard in spite of the multiple layers he always wore. Despite the yards put between the two, Tetch could still hear the other’s shout from within the lab loud and clear. It was sharp, holding a lilt of laughter that was betwixt and between anger and glee, the lines blurred ever so messily.

“ _ You dirty little lab rat! _ ”

Tetch loathed how the degrading terms of Scarecrow’s wanton speech made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t quite describe. “Lab rat” and “experiment” were some of the favorites of the sadist. Such false terms of endearment were horrid on his ears when spoken in Jonathan’s voice. It made him feel low— small underneath the pillar of terror that was his paramour, and he didn’t like that feeling. Not one bit. But he knew he wouldn’t have to hear those words for the rest of nightfall if he could simply reach the forest and lose his pursuer through the vast array of trees and brambles before he could be grabbed, he was almost guaranteed a win. He would be out of sight and dawn would come before either of them knew it. Jonathan would be back, lauding him about how much of a smart Hatter he was, evading capture and how he had underestimated Tetch’s skill at regaining control of a situation with the cards stacked against him, and then they would go and cuddle on the mattress and get some sleep.

Unfortunately, Jervis was not as limber as the system of his partner. Running had never been a favorite activity of his (though he has to keep reminding himself about getting into practice given his profession). He was a fool to think he could ever outrun someone clearly more fit than he could ever dream to be. These thoughts came to him as he could hear the crunching of dry grass behind him from over the beating of his own heart and harried lungs. A good ten feet from the clear-cut tree line, his legs buckled under the sudden weight at his back.

Jervis whined in pain when his cheek hit the freezing grass, the air knocked out of him forming in a cloud before him before dissipating in the dark of night. A sharp pain tore through his leg, the warmth letting him know he had scraped something on the fall and was now messing the trousers he tried so hard to keep clean. A weight was on his back; Scarecrow straddled the man with no thought towards his comfort. He attempted to lift his gaze some, but a hand roughly pushed his cheek back into the frigid grass. The Crow hummed gleefully, turning their gaze to the moon. “Hm. I’d say you lasted until 4 am,” they noted, a malicious gaze falling back on Tetch. “Impressive. Hiding in the upper cabinet did buy you quite a bit of time, didn’t it?”

Tetch didn’t answer, heart pounding and voice caught as he squirmed under the Master of Fear. He had to escape somehow. He had been so close— what had he done wrong? The frigid air numbed his skin, but it did little to slow the devastation he felt inside. He found his lungs still when Scarecrow’s hot breath cascaded over his ear, dragging their lips over his neck to search for that pulse point. Once found, Scarecrow hummed in delight at how it beat rapidly with potent fear. “As adrenaline shoots through your veins,” they whispered into his ear, the heat making Tetch’s breath hitch at the pleasant feeling of warmth, “your mind has opened itself to take in every detail of your surroundings to catalogue for future reference. Each bite and whisper and delicious scream will be remembered for the rest of your life with unusual clarity.” Jervis found the hand that had previously been pinning him down now tangling itself within wavy blonde locks. A yelp fled his tongue when his head was forced back with a yank, teeth clenched in pain and fear when Scarecrow’s lips met the cold, numb surface of his neck. “And I will make sure my little experiment will find this encounter at the forefront of his mind whenever you even hear my voice.”

The corners of Hatter’s lips twitched further downwards, anger rising over fear. “Don’t call me that, you cur,” he threw back, attempting to regain some of the control he was always so fond of having. “I am not some specimen for you to play w—“ 

Jervis spoke no more when he found two sharp blades to his throat. “It seems that someone’s hair needs a bit of cutting,” Scarecrow giggled, the open blades of the scissors splayed against Tetch’s throat. The Hatter’s eyes were the size of tea plates, feeling each thin blade cut through his skin, beads of blood emerging to taint his skin. The pain brung tears to his eyes, his heart racing in knowing that at any second, the monster could grow tired of him and simply embed the blades into his throat and leave him there to die. The Crow had done many cruel things to those innocents of Gotham— what was stopping them from ending the annoyance known as Jervis Tetch and brushing off Jonathan’s grief?

“I blame Jonathan for never putting you in your proper place,” Scarecrow growled to their test subject, though no anger could be detected in their voice. “Poor Hatter, still trying to maintain control.” The distance between the scissor blades began to close, hot blood beginning to drip down his neck and stain his green vest.Tears streamed down the Hatter’s cheeks, something he hadn’t noticed he felt their weight leave him to hit the ground. The Queen had ordered the Monstrous Crow to have her blade to his neck, ready to look for any excuse to execute him. The Crow’s teasing only amplified Tetch’s growing despair. “Yet you’re nothing but a test subject. A dirty little lab rat who has gotten out of his cage. And you know what we do with failed experiments.”

Jervis felt the pressure increase and his will , as well as his lucidity, finally broke, begs beginning to spill from his mouth. “No! Stop! P-p-please don’t off my head!” he began to sob, genuinely believing that Scarecrow was about to off him and walk away to wash off the blood on their hands. “I’m begging you— please— don’t— I didn’t mean to kill Time—! I’m just a— a poor Hatter and I-I-I—“

“Such a filthy Hatter,” Scarecrow spat, causing Jervis to flinch enough to further the cut in his neck. “Look at you. Showing up to court covered in blood. What would the March Hare say?”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—!” Jervis kept repeating the phrase on a loop, eyes wrenched shut in terror at the world his mind was forcing on him. 

“Worthless,” the Monstrous Crow scowled, a broad grin stretching their visage from ear to ear. “What use is there in such a disobedient, horrible Hatta? Getting thrown in jail. Killing Time. No one wants you. You need to be thrown away.”

“I’m b-begging you!” Hatter cried, his lungs breathing in mountains of cold air in his panic. For all he knew, these were the last breaths he would ever take. “I’ll do anything!”

The victim’s shouts were filled with terror and could be heard from half a mile by passersby had they not been surrounded by forest. And yet there was a calmness to the Crow. Scarecrow hummed, as if in thought and considering the Hatter’s offer, but Hatter was afraid the noise was simply out of contempt for his pathetic cries. 

They lowered their head until their lips brushed against his ear. “Of course, this doesn’t have to be the end,” they rasped, their words promising. “If you simply be my good little lab bunny, you won’t have to suffer.”

“Yes, please,” Mad Hatter whimpered at the first mention of an out. He couldn’t even think about the words he was saying— he was terrified. Terrified of not being loved or cared for. Terrified of being deemed worthless by the people he trusted. Thrown to the side for the Queen to judge him for his sins and being left forgotten in the woods. The big scary crow was offering him salvation from the Queen’s blades, and that was all that mattered. “I’ll be the most obedient white rabbit you’ll ever lay your feathers upon— I promise! Just please—!”

“Shhhh…” Scarecrow whispered, relieving pressure from the blades. “There he is. There’s my fearful little lab rat.” They moved their lips to the back of Tetch’s neck, giving small kisses to the sensitive skin. A whine left Jervis’ throat, fearful yet basking in the warmth again his frigid skin. “Afraid, begging under me. It’s about time I got around to truly breaking you in myself. Fear toxin is a useful tool, oh but it takes away from the intimacy between me and my victims.”

“Y-you won’t kill me?” Hatter whispered, swallowing and shivering as more hot blood dribbled and stained his coat. He was answered by the removal of the scissors from his neck, allowing him to gasp in air without fear of being cut and soon let out another sob. He didn’t struggle when the weight lifted off of him and a hand grabbed his middle to bring him up onto his hands and knees.

“No… you’re such a good test subject,” Scarecrow purred, a hand sliding down Tetch’s coat, undoing each button. Jervis didn’t protest despite the chill that continued to encroach upon him. This delighted the monster. “A subject for me to play with. A good lab rat.”

“I’m a good lab rat,” Jervis parroted with a whimper, unable think of anything else other than the Scarecrow and focusing on the warmth they provided his cold system, thin frame draped over his own with a hand undoing buttons and exploring the curves underneath.

“Exactly. Good lab rats deserve good things for being so loyal. They needn’t be afraid because they listen. My little experiment needs a reward for learning his lesson, doesn’t he?” Scarecrow hummed, undoing the final buttons to the Hatter’s trousers. Jervis nodded vigorously, his mind displacing the effects of the rushing emotions of fear into warmth and pleasure.  _ I’m a good experiment _ , his mind kept replaying on repeat, these words bringing him comfort.  _ If I behave, I get good things. If I behave, I don’t have to be scared anymore. _

A squeak left Tetch’s lips when he felt a warm hand wrap around him. The numbness of the rest of his body only amplified the warm stimulation he received when Scarecrow took hold of him. “Does the Hatter love his March Hare?” Scarecrow teased, giving Jervis’ stiffening member a generous pump. 

Tetch lost the ability to speak then, needy whines and whimpered leaving his throat as the onslaught of stimulation he was receiving. Another pump and the words began to spill freely. “Yes!” he gasped, struggling to babble a reply. “M-more than anything— oh my— hah!”

“You won’t have to be afraid of that nasty Queen of Hearts,” the monster hissed, their hand stroking him at a steady pace, thumb occasionally playing with the head. “The only one you’re allowed to be afraid of is me, do you understand.”

“Yes sir,” came their pet’s response in a breathy moan, body trembling at such intense stimulation. It sounded lovely, the idea of being protected. For someone to find him worthy of keeping to play with. His mind was abuzz with these intense stimulants and uncharacteristic thoughts. Scarecrow told him he was good, and it made him happy. Any previous need for control had left his mind completely, leaving it empty as he shut out his daunting thoughts of common sense and reality. They were dangerous; they were what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Wonderland made sense to him, and it made him feel safe.

“My good little experiment,” the dark professor murmured in his ear, jerking the man’s cock faster and listening to his heart pump wildly at the rush of endorphins. 

“I’m good,” Jervis whispered automatically, truly believing those words and internalizing them. 

“Yes you are,” Scarecrow hummed, listening to his fucktoy whine and whimper. “ _ My  _ little experiment. No one else’s. Not the Queen or the King or the Hare’s. My one and only personal little test subject.”

“Yours. Only yours,” Jervis gasped, feeling himself growing close. He was special. He was unique. Someone wanted him as their own. Scarecrow said it themself, and he took their words as gospel. Their one and only. It made him so happy to be praised by someone he loved so dearly.

“Are you close?” Scarecrow questioned, quickening each stroke. They had Tetch in the palm of their hand, both figuratively and literally.

“Yes,” Tetch whined, biting his lip so hard he believed it would bleed if he didn’t let up on the pressure. “So close. Please don’t stop.” To his devastation, the pleasure halted, with Scarecrow retracting their hand. He looked over his shoulder and at Scarecrow, looking nervously upset. “D-did I do something wrong?” he piped up, that anxiety swelling up once more now that the other had pulled away. Were they angry? Scarecrow just hummed with a shake of their head, digging in their pocket until they found the portable bottle of aloe vera. Thankfully they thought ahead just in case they had caught Tetch outside. “I can’t have you soiling yourself already. Not when I worked so hard to get you. I still want my treat. Jervis watched them squirt some of the substance into their hand. “Remove your trousers and boxers.” Tetch blinked in surprise, but didn’t hesitate to do as told, exposing himself. He modestly crossed his legs on instinct, a habit rooted in his brain whenever in a state of undress. In an instant his lower half was freezing, the cold beginning to take more of a toll on his body. He squeaked when pushed on his back, the cold seeping in through his coat. But any discomfort disappeared when he felt two slick fingers enter him. They were oh so warm, and with that his body began to warm up once more. His waning pleasure had picked up, hitting a milestone when those fingers curled inside him, hitting an area that sent a trembling wave through him. “Does my rat like that?” Scarecrow purred, hitting that trigger but never pressing too hard or too often. They merely wanted to get him prepared for them. Hatter nodded vigorously, panting soon starting up once more as he grabbed the Crow’s arm to ground himself.

Jervis had only just begun to relish the pleasure he was being gifted when he was suddenly and unceremoniously picked up off the ground. Next thing he knew, his back was against a tree, Scarecrow lifting him up off the ground and against the bark with their hands supporting his thighs. Tetch grabbed onto the other’s shoulders to stabilize himself, momentarily confused when he was suddenly filled with a heat that dispelled the effects of the cold weather. The numbness of his skin only caused his body to focus on the warmth that flooded his system, bucking him up against the tree with little thought for his comfort. 

Scarecrow’s mouth was at Tetch’s throat, leaving love bites and finding the cuts that the scissors had left. Jervis grasped the monster’s hair desperately, uncontrolled whines and moans spilling past his lips as a hot wet tongue brushed along his neck, licking away the dribbled blood to taste more of their pet project. He felt so deliciously full; full of heat and nonsensical thoughts and the hard flesh that assailed him. Each rocking thrust disrupted any attempt at coherent thought he tried to make. The heat shocking his system was almost too much; he leaned his head back, unable to process anything other than his own need and the heat that moved inside him. 

Scarecrow was not gentle, repeatedly thumping Jervis against the tree in order to hear more of his delicious squeaks and whimpers. There was no love as they put their forehead against the Hatter’s and stared into his gaze; it was more akin to a predator delighting in their prey. Care was absent with every sharp buck against the tree, letting the rough bark scrape and dirty Tetch’s coat. There was only this instinctual hunger to sate his own needs with Hatter’s flesh and sharp cries and gasps. Despite this, Jervis found himself in love with how the Scarecrow’s body warmed his, their searing heat hitting that deep ache inside of him with every roll of the hips. He babbled out nonsense words about monstrous crows and love and duchesses, his mind unable to make two connecting thoughts. All he knew was that he needed more.

“Don’t— ahh —stop!” he whined, letting out a curt gasp when a slick tongue met his neck to collect newly emerged blood. “Please don’t stop! Hah— I’m close!”

“Mmm, that’s it, my filthy little Hatter,” Scarecrow hummed into the nape of his neck, already starting to feel a build up themself. Their breathing was labored, making sure to savor each and every moan that tumbled from their toy’s mouth. As much as they would love to see him choke and gag on on a cock forced down his throat, they didn’t ever consider the act if it meant not being able to hear those delightful sounds Tetch was readily giving off at the moment. The whimpers and pleading for more. His rapid heartbeat and his begs were what caused Jervis to be fucked so roughly, and yet he couldn’t think of such an act in any other way. He couldn’t think at all, really. Scarecrow made sure to break their toy before having him, leaving only baser instincts.

Jervis couldn’t handle any more. “I’m about to— hah!”

“Come for me, Hatter,” Scarecrow rasped.

“Scarecrow!” the Mad Hatter gasped, teeth sinking deep onto his lip as a sudder rocked through his body when he came. His cock twitched between them, messing both of their tops, but it wasn’t like they really cared what with the mess already made. “So good” was all he could whisper on repeat under his breath, the wave of pleasure starting to fade. When a burning wave of heat flooded his insides, he cried out loudly, back arching at the feeling of the monster’s come spilling into him. It warmed him, his body now a temporary space heater from the amount of heat he exuded. “So good,” he whispered again, exhaustion consuming him once Scarecrow had finished inside him. He slumped against the beast, whose arms trembled at the increasing shift of weight.

Jervis soon found himself lying back in the cold grass, his mind catching back up with reality and processing his surroundings. His need had been sated and he no longer felt in danger, allowing him to actually comprehend what had happened between them. Scarecrow was atop him, ear on his chest and listening to the slowing heart rate of their victim. It excited and soothed them all at once, and after such a fun little chase they had. The blood had stopped leaking from his neck, making it known that the surface wound wasn’t all that serious; Scarecrow knew how to control their need and stop themself from going too far. They sat back, watching Jervis lay face-up in exhaustion from the rush of chemicals that had been rapidly exchanged in his brain in those short ten minutes. Looking down, he noticed a rather large cut on the thigh— again, not too deep, but still had a bit of blood flowing. A stray branch must have struck when they had tacked the Hatter to the ground. The monster’s thumb made slow circles around the other’s bare inner thigh, enticing a tired moan from their prey; one that clearly said, “I’m too tired to go again.” Scarecrow just chuckled, not looking for another round. Instead, they reached their hand over, grinning as Jervis flinched on instinct when their finger brushed over the cut, collecting the slick blood and rubbing it between their fingers. They went back to circling the inner thigh, leaving trails of deep vermillion. 

Tetch let out a soft sigh, rather liking Scarecrow’s more gentle touches. It showed that the monster wasn’t completely made up of sadism and violence. He felt their fingers make small patterns, at one point even writing their own name along his inner thigh. It was rather relaxing, up until the heat of their activities had begun to fade and the cold started setting in. 

“We should go back inside,” he said finally. Scarecrow watched him sit up with a bit of shakiness to his movements. “Do you think you could clean off a bit of that blood before getting my trousers, darling? I’d rather not stain them.”

Scarecrow gave a small shrug, a devious grin plastered over their visage as usual. “My pleasure.”

Jervis squeaked in shock when a hot tongue ran up his thigh, collecting all the blood from the cut. Scarecrow finished the path, taking the moment to lick the crimson liquid from their fingers. “Would you like me to continue?” they inquired teasingly. 

“You’re disgusting,” Tetch huffed, not hesitating to show his repulsion. A small yip slipped past his lips when his body was swept off the ground with relative ease.

“And yet you love me anyways,” the monster hummed, making sure they had the correct hold on their alter’s paramour. Their tone stated this as fact, not opinion.

Tetch turned his head away, gazing back at the landscape of trees to draw attention away from heating cheeks. “Perhaps…” was all he would admit to. But Scarecrow didn’t need admission to know that only a lover would let them do as they did to him that night and still trust them onwards. Tetch was such a guileless little morsel when so vulnerable.

“Let’s get back inside,” they spoke with a rarely-heard tiredness to their voice, knowing that they would have to do a bit of the cleaning up before Jon would be ready to take control. But they didn’t mind too much. They had put Tetch through quite a bit during the night, and they weren’t above cleaning up collateral messes from in-depth experimentation. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> TL;DR:
> 
> jervis: u wont find me
> 
> scarecrow: found u
> 
> jervis: ok now what
> 
> scarecrow: aloe vera time


End file.
